Jar full of Dreams
by Feeling.Delirious
Summary: I had a dream once... infact, I've had many. Dreams of flying, swimming, running so fast that I am just a blur. But more often than not, I've dreamt of Magic. Warnings: Child Abuse, Self Mutilation, Slash.


A car rumbled along a desolate road, obscured by a thick fog that rolled over the road into the nearby river. Pulling over, a largely obese man lumbered out, huffing as he dragged from behind him a large black garbage bag.

As he stood by the edge of the fast flowing river, he opened the bag and tipped out a body into the dirty, murky water. Stepping back, he nervously watched as the body floated downstream and was lost

within the fog before quickly, well as fast as a man he size could, scrambling back up the bank and driving off, to be lost within the fog.

Water lapped at the lone body lying face down in the mud, unmoving. The skin on the body was cold and pale, almost translucent stretched tightly over easily seen bones with unsightly dark purple and yellow bruises

covering parts of the body.

Out of the mud beside the body, a red claw like hand sprouted, with long black nails and black veins that stood stark against the skin of the hand. It clawed desperately at the grey mud before it gave way allowing the claw to hoist out a body

with red skin stretched tightly over the skeleton like body and black soulless eyes. Its sharp carnivorous teeth lined its teeth less mouth, and drew blood from the slowly rotting gums.

The creature rans his hands over the small back of the body, ripping its wet shirt and digging its long nails into the flesh before flipping it over. The body belonged to a small boy, the age around 9 or 10 with midnight black hair that lay dirty and

mattered over his head, and glassy green eyes that stared unseeingly forwards.

He was dressed in large and baggy greys clothes that clung to his slight frame. The oversized t-shirt was mattered with dry blood.

The boys most noticeable feature, besides the jagged scar on his forehead, was a long slit that lined the boys throat, where dry blood seemed to have spilled continuously down his neck.

The Creature made a terrifying gurgling noise, as he slowly ran his long bony fingers over the boys tiny torso, over his neck and sipping its long index finger into the cut and scraping out dry blood, that seemed to liquefy once in contact with his hands,

and drew rough and spiky patterns over his face and neck, the blood blending in with his skin, blurring and crinkling as he moved.

In a matter of minutes, it was done, and the designs burned into the Creatures skin as it released its guttural laugh, its teeth clashing and cutting each other as blood flowed from its mouth. Grabbing the boy's left hand, he unclenched it, and teased

a small piece of paper out of his hand, before spitting a mixture of spit and blood into the palm.

The liquid seemed to move and solidify before moving again, the patterns on his face copied into the mixture.

The creature closed the hand before scrambling up the bank, its movements started and jerky, before starting into a loping four legged run, its head swaying back and forth, its veins stretching as its neck swung and its skin illuminated.

The Creature turned around once again and let out its screeching, chilling, laugh, the painted blood sliding off and dripping onto the ground, before clawing its way within the confines of the sand.

* * *

Back on the bank, the dead boy stirred, his eyes receiving clarity as they slowly bled to grey. It was hard to see, as black clouded his vision and every part of his body ached as pain shot through his torso and pierced his heart.

Rolling over, he pressed his hand to his chest as he heaved onto the bank he was lying on. Propping himself up, he unclenched his left hand to vine a large blue crystal, the size of a finger lying he turned it over in his hand, a myriad a red

characters flashed over the surface, before disappearing once again to the striking but pale blue. Tearing his eyes away from the crystal, he finally took note of the state of his clothes and surroundings.

"Oh dear," he thought, "what a mess." As he took note of his blood stained clothes.

"Who am I again?" he pondered before his vision was bombarded with a range of images, ranging from a flash of green, and a woman's scream, a family of four sitting in a very white kitchen, to the feeling of pure panic as his sight went black as he

was grabbed by large, purple faced man before a sharp feeling of pain glided across his neck.

Glassy eyes stared hauntingly over the dirty brown water as it lapped at his feet, in a soothing, rhythmic motion as if to say

'Shhh, it's alright we're here…'

The funny thing?

It actually was…


End file.
